This post is the third in a month-long series on the Miracle of Dunkirk, a call to all-in, bring-your-boat, daring and courageous orphan care inspired by the But If Not campaign of Sage Harvest Gourmet Jerky. Join the cause to stage the NEW greatest rescue mission in modern history — the Miracle in China.
I haven’t been in a boat for years.
As a little girl, my daddy used to take my sister and me canoeing at least twice a year — back in the days of Indian Princess camp-outs and father-daughter outings.
It was one of my very favorite things — being out on the water with the man who was my childhood hero, using teamwork to propel our tiny (and easily tippable) canoe from one side of the lake to the other, basking in the sunshine as we observed turtles and frogs and the troves of lost sunglasses and hats that had washed up on the shore.
It’s one of the memories that truly marks my mind’s version of childhood.
So for Father’s Day, the boys and I decided canoeing was exactly what we wanted to take the fathers in our life to do.
On Sunday, we loaded up two canoes — one with Super-Spouse and two boys, the other with my dad, Superhero 1 and me — and spent two hours paddling in the afternoon sun around a local lake we’d not yet had the chance to explore.
We giggled as we watched Superheroes 2 and 3 learn to use oars.
We snickered as another superhero almost got caught by explorers when he docked his boat ashore to pee on what he thought would be an uninhabited piece of land.
We got stinky and dirty as we rowed in boats with boys who didn’t get the concept of keeping the paddle in the water.
And we just basked in the beauty and fun of adventure and teamwork and togetherness in the loveliness and serenity of the lake.
As we rowed and explored and played and laughed, I noticed others at the lake who hadn’t gotten into the water.
The ones still sitting on the shore. Read More